The Doctors In"He's probably dead," Roger exclaimed as the two kittens giggled mischievously behind him.
Krystal and Amanda had arrived at Coleman Park appropriately attired for the evening. Their previously decided-upon costumes seemed much sexier in person than when Roger was helping them choose outfits at Wal-Mart. Being the edgy person that he was, he had politely declined their offer of buying a disguise for him. He had never celebrated the holiday, and instead purchased a t-shirt that furthered his rebelliousness with bright yellow text that read, 'I don't do costumes.'
His head down and his hands in his pockets, he paced himself up the paved hill that lead to the local, haunted legend. Krystal swung her faux tail playfully and adjusted the large black ears that wouldn't stay in her curly hair despite the obscene amounts of hairspray she had employed. Amanda clicked her heels across the ground. She sprinted in front of Roger and slowed to a smooth strut seemingly fo
DisillusionedDisillusioned3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"You girls need a ride?"
October looked up, letting her eyes stray from the gravel beneath her feet. She had been walking along the highway for so long she had started counting her steps to pass the time, hoping that when she finally looked up she would see civilization. Abigail ran to the truck driver's passenger door, haphazardly pushing past October as if she had never ridden in a vehicle before.
October glared at the driver's soiled clothes, greasy hair, and crooked teeth. She imagined his smell which made her gag uncontrollably. It was as if his unkemptness was setting off red flags in her head: "Never talk to strangers. And never accept rides from hillbilly truck drivers in the middle of nowhere."
"Where are you headed?" Abigail questioned playfully. Even though she was a few years older than October, it seemed to make her more reckless than wise. Before the driver had the chance to wheeze whatever location in Kansas he was headed to, October yanked the sultry temptress to
26. ScreamShe saw the shadow of a figure out of the corner of her eye and turned to look outside at the foggy night. Out of the mist a pair of dull red, narrowed slits glared back at her. She paused in alarm for a moment, and blinking rapidly, peered more closely in case she really was losing it. Then she let out a piercing wail.26. Scream3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
All she saw were the eyes of whatever was out there, but that was impossible she told herself, she was seven stories high! A bone-chilling horror crept over her and she pulled the curtains tight, scrambling backward from the gleam of the unearthly eyes that should not be there.
Running to the bathroom in her little apartment, she threw the door closed and tried to collect her wits. Turning to draw herself a hot bath, she tried to forget all about her mind playing tricks on her, but the first thing she saw were the eyes.
They floated just outside her bathroom window in the chill night as if disembodied. She let out an earsplitting shriek and bolted towards the front door
Submerge, Emerge.All my life, wading, wading.Submerge, Emerge.3 years ago in Scraps More Like This
Shallow water spreads
Warmth between my toes.
Current sensed within.
All my life, waiting, waiting,
Waiting to go in.
All these years trying, trying
To show what flows through me.
All these years, dying, dying,
Dying to create.
All this time, filling, filling..
No way to release.
Skin cracks from tension
Of everything unshown.
All this time, feeling, feeling,
Collect my thoughts.
Take steady steps.
Down down, until I am submerged.
What I see here,
Is crystal clear:
A way to let myself emerge.
What I see here,
Is crystal clear:
A way to let myself emerge.
All over, pouring, pouring.
Rain has set me free.
Finally I can share
What this world is to me.
All around, finding, finding
What this world is to me.
The Bonds of LoveLover to lover,The Bonds of Love3 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
but I am your prisoner;
chained up in the dark.
Dreams are a gatewayAs all around you, thunder crashes,Dreams are a gateway3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and jagged flashes expose the rain,
the walls begin to shake and moan and
the dream comes again to haunt your brain.
All alone in bed, your restless head,
tossing like a ship on violent seas,
sprays salty teardrops across the sheets,
the growing stains naught but wordless pleas.
Terror rises from night-blackened depths,
by nature's fury, drawn forth to feed,
come to wrap you in its spectral limbs,
so from sanity you can be freed.
Now forlorn within your troubled mind,
and marooned upon a mountain high,
you are confronted by a nightmare.
God it looms in size! Such depthless eyes!
Your eardrums shake from a ceaseless howl,
which blows apart the concealing clouds,
and your trembling limbs freeze, numb with awe,
for, too quickly now, its shape unshrouds.
Many jagged lines of iron mist
frame a frame cast from hell incarnate,
with spears of flesh and strobing colors,
its merest sight leaves you insensate.
Mismatched eyes see through your stammered l
Part-Time HookerI inhale smoke and dirty thoughtsPart-Time Hooker3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
(sleeping with a waste-of-calories
with no sex appeal. her heart
the volume of
smell increases as it's
getting hotter than a
I don't mind her
cold hands around my --
burned out lights form a
silhouette; film this on
screen like a dream
you can watch or hear.
but she doesn't scream;
her bones suffocate me
as she's wrapped around
my body -
she's stiff, cold, dry.
sleeping with a waste-of-calories
with no sex appeal. her heart
doesn't beat. )
Until I can't breathe.
Dead Ties ProloguePrologueDead Ties Prologue2 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
She ran quickly through the hall, lifting up the skirts of her dress so not to trip and fall, once she reached the children’s bedroom she ran in and picked up her infant daughter in one hand then turned to her son who was no more than ten years old, clutching a soft white toy rabbit in his arms with a light blue ribbon tied around its neck.
She extended her other hand to the child. “Jacob come along, we are leaving this place. So we must hurry.”
The boy looked up at her with confusion in his blue eyes. “But Mummy, what about Daddy, you said he would be back soon.”
With a slight breath she nodded. “That I did, but some things have changed. Things I cannot explain to you at this moment, so please Jacob, we must leave. Daddy will know where we have gone, he’ll find us.”
Still looking confused the boy took her hand but as they headed into the hallway and towards the stairs he asked. “Is it because of that man that was watching
Tales of the ForbiddenPrologueTales of the Forbidden5 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Bitter winds ripped sands across the gritty desert plain, covering the fallen warriors and plaguing the living. It bit into bleeding flesh, stinging the injuries of people conscious enough to care. A wounded man clad in tattered white robes stood in the center, amongst those not yet fallen.
The stench of rotten flesh infested his nostrils; fighters who fell early enough for the scorching sun to hasten their decay. Others fought well into the night. They battled for survival and revenge for their fallen comrades. The sand beneath his bare feet caressed his skin, coloring crimson as blood trailed from many wounds and soaked into it. The upper part of his robes had been shredded and hung past his waist a large gash tore across his chest and bled profusely.
The lacking garments on his upper body freed his wings. Two wings larger than himself, once a stunning white were now tainted by dirt and blood, the remnants of his battle. His left-wing twitched and hung limp. He stretc
Love Me DeadLove Me Dead4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
It's that time once again.
The preparation and planning has been glorious. Though it is the same record I've played over and over for millennia beyond millennia, it is no longer broken. I have managed to ripen the mix and stir until it is an entirely new recipe. As petite and distastefully helpless as this form is, I am still an animal and can enjoy my bestial instincts that allow me to suffer pleasure in my kill.
So unappealing is this fragile form humans bare, however; to pity them is to offer a luxury they do not deserve. Their flaws and weaker forms aside, there is work to be done. One paw upon his chest; my nose to his; a single breath and his soul is mine to harbor.
Beatrix kicked the aging envelopes aside as she attempted to leap across the unwelcoming welcome mat. Her unnatural perfectionism beginning to overwhelm her, she knelt down as she stepped into the house, folding wads of unopened mail beneath her arms. She scoffed angrily
StarsI reached for the stars,Stars2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Longing for the strength and brilliance they held.
But my hand came back with shards of glass, streaked with blood.
Jagged pieces dug into my palm, broken fragments of a dream.
For stars are not meant to claimed or owned,
But acknowledged and gazed at from a distance.
Their world is not the same as yours,
And they do not wish to be confined and limited,
By your personal desires.
I Love You In DisguiseJeremy Crenshaw was sitting in the same place he sat every day in fourth period English; far away enough not to be noticed, and close enough to admire from afar. For the last three years their schedules had been almost identical; but somehow English was the only class he had with him their junior year.I Love You In Disguise3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Braden Morgan was charming and sweet. He had an air about him that drew people in, even those who were unwanted. Because of this, he was constantly surrounded by his jock buddies and busty groupies. Jeremy could never find a moment to speak; to remind him of when they were younger and when he once admitted that they were best friends.
Braden's body had firmed and his stature had grown those last few years. He kept his head clean with an attractive buzz-cut and enough dirty blonde stubble to remind others of his maturity. He didn't play any sports, so most attentive teachers and coaches ignored his facial hair. Instead he made his mark in art class and drama, neither
I would love to give upi.I would love to give up2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
'there's a second hand that holds mine, and stuffs the words back down my throat.'
her voice a crack--
sticks & stones breaking
between her teeth
but when she tries to find the sound
her pen runs dry
[can someone flip the switch to 'yes' or 'no'
i've been so de
& my head is saying 'maybe']
(i would ask myself,
but i don't trust liars)
she tries to string the words
down a thread
but they always c r u mb l e
(& the cinders burn
with the same old questions)
but when you turn
she'll be gone
there are rocks in her throat when she asks you for help.
the words grind to sand on her tongue.
smoke in her head
smeared across her hands
her fingers are broken;
o k e d
she reaches for some kind of
at the corner
& turn of each & every page
Ode to a Human NightingaleWhen Taylor & Hessey closed for the day, drawing down the blinds on their shop window, no one noticed a young man snatching one of the books from the shelf and secreting it in his great coat. Nor did they notice him slip out the back door into an alleyway filled with the char and tar of London, his eyes swivelling to both sides. Fleet St was busy; the horses trotted down the road with carriages bouncing on the most delicate of axles whilst rank sweat and horse manure intertwined in a stench that overpowered the scent of the evening breeze. Everyone was shouting, their voices tussling with each other as the street groaned under hundreds of feet and hooves; oh indeed for a moment of silence in this hideous city!Ode to a Human Nightingale4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Thruppence for a linnet, sir!" shouted a bird hawker at the young man's side as he sidled down the side of the street, careful to draw the coat more tightly about him. Another voice soon assaulted the first and the young man turned briefly to a grubby boy holding a cage half cov
Before The Stars FadeThe world has grown smaller, more insignificantBefore The Stars Fade3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Little men run about in the darkness, screaming their inanities
Quiet listening is abandoned in favor of shouting louder
over the top of one's neighbors
Dreams once soft and sweet have become meat for them
to tear apart and grind with their teeth, demanding recognition
But no one is ever fulfilled, untiringly grasping at shadows
The world shrinks a little more, and children grow up fast
I can hear the screaming and shouting from my bed, through
closed windows, all want to make their presence known
Seeing like a cat, hearing like a bat, I feel the need to go out and
shout with them, to howl my existence, to
eat fresh dreams
Dying is no way to live, but its all we seem capable of doing
Last one on earth, please turn off the lights
Maybe we can remember one dream that hasn't been mauled, one last time
One smile before the stars all fade and we're left with nothing
and become nothing
Inner Essence: Chapter 1 - Windcrest (Updated)Inner Essence: Chapter 1 - Windcrest (Updated)3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
“Come on, Jospeh, let’s go!” I shouted, throwing my hands into the air as I ran into the open, outdoor courtyard.
“Okay, slow down!” Joseph called back, trying to keep up with me.
“What do you want to do first?” I said, gravitating toward a nearby swing set that had been made by some of the older guards. “Let’s go on the swings!”
“Alright, alright!” Joseph said, walking over to join me on the swing set.
The sun was shining, the breeze was cool, and my eighth birthday was shaping up to be as great as I could’ve hoped for. I had my best friend Joseph at my side, and the Windcrest Guard Corps had thrown me a small party just like Joseph’s eighth birthday a few months ago. It didn’t matter that Joseph might have been my only real friend at the time, because everyone else at least didn’t mind me—everyone, of course, except Arthur.
A rock hit my shoe as I descended through the air, causing m
the rainfall kidshe always loved the sting of grapefruitthe rainfall kid3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and the way the winter air kissed her skin,
leaving it pink and raw and sensitive to the touch
like the heart she tried so hard to hide.
but she never grew up, not really.
she always belonged to the rain
and never stayed in one place for too long.
she was afraid her stupid heart might dig in,
leave its roots in the people and then
it would rip and tear when she up and left.
and she never accepted the fact that
she did indeed have a heart.
she tried so hard to be hollow and
let the winter rain chill her skin and
soak into her bones so that she, too,
might be just as cold.
so she stopped believing in sunshine.
she accepted the title of rainfall kid,
and lived with thunder in her chest.
Cassandra - Prologue and Part 1Even in death, Cassandra was lovely.Cassandra - Prologue and Part 13 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Her hair cascaded over her ivory shoulders in sable cataracts, pooling in the soft hollow between her breast and throat. She was wearing the white nightgown, the one she knew I loved, and the fall had thrown it up, weightless, in gossamer drifts across her legs. Her bare toes were painted salmon-pink, the same colour as the roses in the crystal vase by the door.
So elegant, my Cassandra. I might have expected that she would sprawl, as one imagines that people do when they have died suddenly, but her body refused to surrender its accustomed grace. One hand curled beside her face; the other lay, palm up, across her cocked hips, its open fingers tenderly beckoning. Her eyes were closed, peaceful, the fringe of dark lashes sooty and familiar upon her fading cheek. Her lips were parted in expectation. At any moment, she would wake, look up at me, smile. Cassandra.
My hand found the banister, gripped the aged wood and guided me down the stairs
ScarsI’ve spent far too many yearsScars3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
painting on my skin.
In shades of red and silver;
I can’t find where it begins.
My medium takes too long to dry
and the mistakes will never fade;
placed upon me in white lines
that can never be unmade.
It’s hard to leave pain behind
when it is written on your wrists—
art I could never understand,
and couldn’t quite resist.
A permanent reminder
of things that I have been;
Sorrow lasts forever
when it is cut into your skin.
What do you Want to be When You Grow Up? We are taught when we are little that what only really matters is how much money we make. That's why most of us get asked "What do you want to be when you grow up?" They really didn't care what your ignorant little fingers splurged out; it just mattered that you had some sort of aspiration no matter how pointless it was. It just mattered that maybe it wasn't pointless to teach you. So when the smallest child in my second grade class responded with a scraggly "sparrow,” eyes turned and eyebrows furrowed.What do you Want to be When You Grow Up?3 years ago in Emotional More Like This
"You have to be realistic," our teacher said.
That little boy (whose name is out of my mind's grasp) responded with a strong “It is."
"You can't turn into a sparrow though. Don't you want to be an actor or musician? Choose a career or lifestyle," our teacher said all the while smiling, persistent to drain the dreams from him.
"My mommy said that we can be